


Pushing Limits

by facetofcathy



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Alternate Universe - No Spouse, Kink, M/M, Sex Positive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I randomly chose the prompt, Humlitation (public) from the <span><a href="http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/"><b>kink_bingo</b></a></span> prompt list.  This is not a hard-core interpretation of the kink, and is more about intimacy and exhibitionism, phone sex and power and control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing Limits

Hiatus was a bitch. Oh, the hours were great, staying up until you couldn't, sleeping in until you had to piss like a racehorse—a saying that made no sense to Jared—but he still had to take a piss, so he got up. He contemplated getting back in bed, but he decided to wander around his L.A. hotel room naked for a while. It would be more fun if Jensen were here to rag him for it, claim he shouldn't let something like that dangle in front of the dogs or whatever, but that was the point—hiatus was a bitch because he had to spend most of it where Jensen wasn't.

He checked his phone, made sure it was charged, made sure it was on, made sure it wasn't on vibrate. He set in the centre of the bed and proceeded to wander—into the shower, out of the shower; he wrapped up in a towel to sign for his breakfast, and then let it drop to the floor before the door had finished snicking shut. He checked the phone on each pass through the room.

The first time Jensen had called had been Jared's second day back in Texas. He'd been in his parents' house, sleeping in his old room, letting his mother baby him a little bit, and his phone had gone off just as the sun was rising and promising to add a little more heat to the day. The conversation had been innocuous at first, a back and forth of what are you doing today, how's it going, and so on and so forth. Jared had gotten half hard just from Jensen's voice in his ear, and then Jensen had said, "Listen, I need you to do something for me."

Jared's first response, no active involvement of his conscious mind necessary, had been to say, "Anything you want."

Jensen had laughed, low and hot, and Jared had replayed Jensen's words in his mind and caught the tone he'd missed the first time, just as Jensen had said, "Yeah, I know."

Jared hadn't been just half hard anymore.

It hadn't been too much, that first time, just his tightest jeans against his bare skin, a warning not to cheat with any stupidly long shirts, and a walk through the summer crowds on the River Walk. He'd signed a few autographs, ignored a few long looks and lasted a couple of hours before he'd had to lock himself in a bathroom stall and frantically jerk off to the sound of Jensen's voice in his ear.

What had followed wasn't a progression really, there'd been no clear pattern of escalation. Jensen would call him, not everyday, not the same time everyday, and Jared would act out whatever scenario Jensen set for him. The only thing that had never changed was that he always had to go out in public. No one had ever called Jared shy, but Jensen seemed determined to test just how far he would go. No one had ever called Jared a quitter either.

"Go to lunch at Bernie's Grill, park at least two blocks away, and oh yeah, don't forget to put the plug in your ass first, the big one," Jensen had told him one day, and that hadn't been too bad. He'd worn his baggiest jeans and lasted until he'd been half-way home before he couldn't take it anymore. Jensen had remembered that Bernie's had the hardest wooden benches on Earth, had called him in the middle of lunch to ask Jared how his ass was doing and get him good and worked up. Later Jensen had talked him through a fantastic orgasm in another bathroom stall. It had been a pretty good day all things said and done.

Another day, a package had arrived overnight express. Jared had shrugged off his family's questions, locked the bedroom door behind him and ripped into the padded envelope. There had been no phone call that day, only a set of written instructions on where to go and when to take pictures with his camera phone. Inside the package had been a pair of women's panties that just barely fit. He'd blushed hard struggling into them, taken the required picture and gone where he'd been told to go, but the whole thing had fallen kind of flat. Jared had never gotten turned on; Jensen had been busy all day, so there had been no voice in his ear making his pulse pound and his cock twitch, and at the end of the day they'd written that off as something to laugh about later.

He'd arrived back in L.A. just in time for Jensen to be somewhere else and his first day had been a repeat of the commando stroll, this time with a pair of skimpy cut offs instead of the jeans and a white tank that barely stretched enough to fit. Jensen had been in a hotel in another time zone, waiting on a phone call for an interview and had filled his time chatting to Jared. A lot of people that day had gotten very good views of most of Jared's skin, the shape of his nipples and the unmistakable shape of his cock. He'd needed to visit two bathroom stalls, and his knees had felt like rubber by the time he'd collapsed in bed that night.

Jensen had rewarded him for a job well done by not letting him come for the next three days. Jensen would call him at random times, order him not to touch himself, and talk him to the brink, only to back off and leave him hanging.

Jared was frustrated, constantly turned on and getting a little irritated. Wandering around naked was getting boring, so he gave up on waiting for Jensen's call and pulled on some jeans and a tee shirt—going commando was getting to be second nature and he didn't think twice about it—and headed out for coffee.

His phone rang while he was waiting in line.

"I finally escaped back to my hotel, so I have all kinds of time to kill. I think I might just relax," Jensen said.

"I think I remember relaxation—distantly," Jared said and paid for his coffee with a friendly smile and a big tip. He started walking. Sitting right now was out of the question.

"Yeah, poor baby," Jensen cooed at him, and Jared heard shuffling and rustling over the phone.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" Jared asked.

"You better believe it, man. I've been looking forward to this all day." Jared heard the unmistakable sound of the Ackles flop, which meant Jensen was stretched out on his hotel bed, naked and free to do whatever he wanted.

"So, what are you wearing?" Jared said, joking to try to prove he wasn't desperately hard already.

Jensen laughed in his ear and said, "My right hand. Jesus, wish it was your mouth."

"Fuck," Jared said, too loudly, and a man passing on the street looked up and stared.

The guy took in Jared's obviously bulging crotch, the skimpy tee-shirt stretched over the nipple rings Jensen had made him get while he'd listened on the phone, and his expression warred between shock and revulsion. Jared looked back at the guy—the first time this had happened, one of the days in Texas when he'd been wandering around while Jensen described the leather cuffs he'd just bought in a store in London, his face had heated with shame and his erection had wilted even with the detailed scenario Jensen was spinning in his ear—but they'd been doing this for weeks now. Jared had been out, practically bursting out of his clothes, in every situation imaginable, and he liked it. He'd gotten every kind of look, approving, shocked—hungry, more often than not—and he had been pushed beyond embarrassment and into some kind of state of reckless disregard. He also hadn't come in days, maybe that had something to do with it.

Jared looked the guy in the eye, smiled, and said, "Yeah, I wish it was my mouth too," in the best phone-sex voice he could come up with.

The guy huffed and stalked away while Jared laughed low in his throat, mostly at Jensen who was cursing and moaning, coming a little sooner than he'd planned. Jared dumped his coffee, found a public washroom—he was getting good at that—and waited for Jensen to come down to Earth.

He made sure the bathroom was empty, locked the door and got his cock out without bothering with a stall. His nipples ached, his balls ached, his head was pounding, he was so frustrated, and he'd just found his limit.

"Listen," he said into the phone while he jacked himself with rough careless strokes, "this isn't working."

Jensen started to talk, but Jared cut him off. "No, fuck it, listen to me. This—this has been hot and fun and horrible sometimes too, but it's not enough. I want to touch you, feel you, see you. I'm sick of this damn separate lives crap. I'm sick of it. I want you, dammit, not your goddamn voice on the goddamn phone." Jared jerked himself a little harder, while Jensen stayed utterly silent. He came, painting the floor with unsatisfying stripes of come, and he braced himself against the wall to keep his knees from buckling.

"I think," he said when he could speak without too much of a quaver in his voice, "that you need to get your damn ass on a plane and get where I am, because I'm sick of tasting my own come on my fingers." Jared sucked his fingers into his mouth, tasting himself, bitter more with disappointment than anything else. He pulled his fingers out, making an exaggerated popping sound and said, "Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Anything you want," Jensen said.


End file.
